


You Had Me At Malfeasance

by karmacanary



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan Fluff, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-04-26 20:55:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 14,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5020204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karmacanary/pseuds/karmacanary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Captain Swan one-offs. Some fluff, some steam, some funny, some a little bit of all of that. Rated M for the steamy stuff, whenever I feel like throwing it in there. These were written  whenever the mood struck me after a certain episode.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Interlude

**Author's Note:**

> **Set after "New York City Serenade" (S3) - a couple of lost scenes between Hook and Emma.**

He followed her through the door and off the roof, listening to her boots ring on the stairs, and his after her.

"Swan! Wait."

He wasn't sure what he was going to say to her. He only knew he should be saying something. Obviously, things with this man...this...interloper had gone terribly wrong, and while he was secretly delighted by it, he wasn't cad enough to delight in her pain. Emma was hurting, that much was clear.

She stopped a full flight down, but didn't turn around.

"What?" Her voice was flat and perfunctory, not inviting comment. He decided to persevere, walking down the last few steps to stand in front of her.

"What happened up there?"

"I told you; it didn't work out. Story of my life." She made a move to go around him, and his hand shot out, stopping her.

"Where did he go? Did he try to hurt you?" His eyes were concerned, sweeping her up and down as if looking for an injury.

"He vanished in a cloud of smoke and his fangs and claws were a big surprise, but I'm over it now."

"Fangs and claws?"

"He turned into some kind of demented...flying monkey." She looked up at him, still having a hard time believing it herself. "And from the way he talked, I was part of his plan from the beginning," She looked away, trying not to let the tears form in her eyes. "Whatever it was."

Hook looked alarmed. "A flying monkey? What the devil..." He shook his head. "So you were his target?"

"Yeah. I guess." Emma suddenly felt incredibly weary. She leaned back against the railing on the stairwell, trying to gather her thoughts. Regaining her memories today was enough of a blow, but to find out that she couldn't really have chosen this life anyway - not that she would have, but it was nice to know the option was there - it was just weighing her down.

"You all right?" He asked softly. Something in his eyes pulled at her, and she found herself opening up a little.

"You know, ever since I found out who I was, my life has been one long rollercoaster ride from calamity to chaos. I had a year where none of that happened, and now it's gone." He started to speak, but she held up a hand to stop him. "I know, I know...you're going to remind me again that it was all a lie. But I believed it. I believed it because I wanted to believe it. I _still_ want to believe it."

"You'll get through this, Swan. You're the most resilient person I know - next to me, of course." He gave her a half-smile, stepping forward to twine a lock of her hair around his finger. "It's been a long year for both of us, I suspect."

She reached up, pulling his hand away with hers. "I'm not in the mood, Hook."

His jaw tightened and his eyes flared briefly. "I didn't mean it that way."

"Didn't you?" She smirked. "Am I supposed to believe you were out of action for a year? Please." She dropped his hand and pushed against his chest to get him to move. He was having none of it, lowering his head until his mouth hovered disconcertingly close to hers.

"And if I was?" He looked at her through hooded eyes, his voice barely above a whisper. "You can tell I'm not lying, Swan. You can read me like a book - and I, you. We've always had that between us. Perhaps it's time we stop pretending we don't know each other so well."

She closed her eyes in sheer self-preservation. "I can't do this right now." She opened her eyes again, keeping her tone firm. "I need to get home."

He stepped back. "We'll get you home, and Henry, too. We'll find out what's going on, and we'll fight whatever bloody demons we have to fight." He reached out again, stroking her jawline with his thumb. "But you can't brick me off behind a wall, love. I won't stay."

He pulled his hand back and he looked at her, while she looked at the floor.

"Come on," She said finally. "I need to pack."

###

"I'll never get used to these horseless carriages," Hook complained. "Everyone drives like a madman and there's no way to stretch out your legs or lie down, if you've a mind to."

Emma gave him a warning look, sending a half-nod over her shoulder in Henry's direction.

"The lad's asleep," Hook informed her. "Has been for some time now."

"Well, you can get out and stretch your legs a minute - I'm stopping for gas."

"Gas?"

"Fuel. It's what the car runs on." She put her blinker on, merging over to the right and pulled into a gas station. "This won't take long. There are restrooms inside, if you need them."

He gave her a nod, heading toward the dingy looking mini-market attached to the gas station. He came out a few moments later with a key attached to a large block of wood. He held it up, walking over to her.

"What the devil is this? Do I use the block to prop open the door?"

She smirked. "They do that so no one steals the key."

He raised his brows, clearly not understanding, and made his way around the side of the gas station to the restrooms. Emma finished pumping, looking through the window at sleeping Henry. What the hell was she going to tell him? She still hadn't worked that one out. He'd been peppering Hook with questions the whole way here, and Hook, to his credit, had answered them all with a clever, deliberate vagueness that made her head spin. Henry seemed to be buying it, though. He was having a blast with his new friend, Killian.

And it felt strange calling him Killian. Too...personal.

She replaced the pump and put her gas cap back on just as Hook was walking back out of the mini-market, having returned the key. She got in, and a moment later, his door opened and he slid into the seat next to her.

"Good God. I've been on prison barges that smelled better than that."

She gave him an apologetic look. "Gas station bathrooms are rarely a nice experience."

"I may have to burn these clothes," He muttered. "Or the boots, at the very least." He tilted his head back on the seat rest. "How much longer until we get there?"

"About two more hours," She speculated. "As long as there's no major road construction to slow us down. You can get some sleep if you want. I don't mind."

"I can manage," He replied. "Wouldn't want to leave you without conversation."

She rolled her eyes. "It might be nice to be alone with my thoughts for awhile."

He stared ahead out the window, and she looked at his profile, just as she'd done so many damn times in that jungle when she thought he wasn't looking. He quirked a brow, casting his eyes sideways, catching her in the act.

"That's the problem with you, Swan," He surmised. "You've been alone too long."


	2. Only A Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Set in Neverland, the day after the kiss**

She pulled herself out of the pool of water, glancing around carefully. It felt good to get the sweat and steam of the jungle off of her, even if it was temporary. She stood, wringing the water out of her hair, and then waved her arms, trying to generate some air flow around her body, in lieu of a towel.

"Keep flapping your arms like that and you'll end up with an audience of Lost Boys," Hook said.

She jumped, grabbing her clothes and holding them in front of her as she turned. He was standing a few yards away, with his back to her.

"How long have you been there?" She demanded. "It's pretty low...spying on someone while they bathe." She yanked her shirt over her head, then struggled to push her wet legs into her pants.

"Calm down, Swan, I'm only keeping watch for you."

"I don't recall inviting you."

"You didn't," He confirmed. "But I wasn't entirely joking about the Lost Boys, love. They're not all young children. Some of them are entirely too curious and an unclothed lady - particularly an attractive one - would certainly garner some attention."

"How did you know I was gone? I thought I was being pretty sneaky."

"I wasn't sleeping."

He left it at that. He couldn't very well say _I was watching you sleep like I do most every night and I watched you wake up and I watched you stretch and I wanted very much to be the reason your back was arching._ No, that likely wouldn't do to mention.

"Well you can turn around now," She said. He pivoted slowly, raising his brows. He also tried, and quite valiantly, not to look at the way her shirt was clinging to her wet body, outlining every detail of her perfect breasts, including the slightly erect nipples. He rubbed his ear and forced his eyes elsewhere.

"I'll be glad to get a real bath again, in a place where the air doesn't feel like pea soup," She complained.

"Pea soup?" He made a curious face.

"It's an expression; "thick as pea soup."

"Ah. I'm not entirely familiar with your quaint colloquialisms."

She gave him a smirk, shoving her hands in her back pockets. He raised his eyebrows in return and they stared at each other in awkward silence.

"We should get back," Emma said. "Pan would probably love to separate us."

"If he wanted to do so, he'd have done it already," Hook remarked. He stepped in, disconcertingly close. "What's the matter, Swan? Afraid to be alone with me?"

That got her back up. He managed to stifle a smile as she gave him an eyeroll. "Please."

To her credit, she stood her ground, refusing to let him intimidate her. He reached out, twirling a lock of her hair in his fingers as he leaned down, putting his lips a mere inch above hers.

"Someday, love, you'll use that word for all the right reasons."

She started to say something by way of protest, but he brought his finger to her lips. "Don't tell me you haven't thought about it," He murmured. "The kiss." He rubbed his finger lightly across her lips, but Emma grabbed his hand, stopping him. She took a step back, doing her best to look like she wasn't breathing differently.

"It was just a kiss, Hook. I don't even know why I did it."

He looked at her thoughtfully. "No, you don't, do you?" He stroked his beard. "Believe it or not, that makes me feel better."

"Better about what?"

"You. You might not know why you did it, love, but you're not sorry that you did."

She turned away, shaking her head. "I don't have time for you, Hook." She gave him a dismissive wave behind her back, not even bothering to look back at him as she walked away.

He gave a half-smile to her retreating back.

"Ah, but I have all the time in the world for you, Emma. And I am ever a patient man."


	3. Bro No

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Set after 3:14 - "Quiet Minds"**

"So Emma was getting married?" David asked.

"Not quite," Hook replied. "The offer was made, but he turned into a deranged simian and flew off the building and that tends to put a damper on a girl's ardor."

"How long were they together?" David probed. "She must have had some real feelings for him."

"He was a bloody monkey! And he tried to kill her!"

"But before that," David insisted, " Before that, he was just a man, and she was in love with him, right?"

Hook looked up from his glass of whiskey. "She thought she was. She was going to turn down his proposal before he revealed himself, anyway."

David reached out, moving the bottle further away from Hook. "Go easy on that stuff. I need you sober and thinking."

"One doesn't necessarily have to go with the other, mate," Hook pointed out. "You'll have to excuse me if I need fortification to continue a discussion on this topic."

David rolled his eyes, leaning back on the couch. "I know you don't like to hear it, Hook, but the truth is, she had a good life in New York. And we pulled her away from it."

"It was a lie!" Hook pointed out, exasperated. "And the man wasn't a man at all. And he certainly wasn't the man for her."

"And you are?" David gave him a look.

"Well, apparently I rate far below a murderous, flying monkey on your scale of potential suitors for your daughter. I'm just the bloody pirate who risked his life to help all of you rescue her son. I'm just the scoundrel who risked it all again to bring her here to you. I'm just the villain who saved your bloody life!" He jumped to his feet, and then as an afterthought, he threw his whiskey glass hard into the fireplace.

"Hey!"

"Bloody hell." Hook crossed the room, intending on making an exit.

"Hook! Wait!"

"What?" He bit out, clearly through with this conversation.

"Look, I'm sorry. You're right. You've done a lot to help all of us, and I haven't shown you the gratitude you deserve."

Hook gave him a disgusted look. "I don't want your _gratitude_ , mate."

"I know. But you have it anyway." David stood with his hands on his hips, unsure of where to go with this. He finally decided that honesty was probably the best tack. "You don't want my gratitude. You want my daughter. I get that."

Hook wisely chose to stay silent, biting his lower lip and giving David a dark look.

"The thing is, Hook, she's not mine to give. Emma's got her own mind. She's her own person."

"Exactly," Hook interjected. "Finally - something we can agree upon."

"And if she says you're the one, Hook, then I'll have to agree with her." David offered.

"Very magnanimous of you." He tried once again to leave, but David's hand clamped down on his shoulder, forestalling him. "Oh, what now?" He said petulantly. "I really think we've exhausted the subject, don't you?"

"I just want to add this," David said. "Put yourself in my shoes for a minute, okay? Pretend you get the woman of your dreams. You're with Emma, and she tells you one day that she's carrying your child. Your _child_." He looked away a moment, getting his thoughts together. "Is there anything you wouldn't do for that baby? For the both of them?"

Hook shook his head, looking at the floor, his mind filling with images of Emma, warm in his arms, her belly swollen with his child. He felt a strange, unsettling sensation in his middle, as though he were filling up and in danger of overflowing somehow.

"And after guarding this little someone, cherishing them, knowing you'd give your life for them if you had to -" David continued, "Can you imagine just handing her over to someone else? Someone who, until just recently, had been working with someone who was actively trying to kill you and your whole family?"

Hook looked at him grimly. "I see your point."

David pulled his hand off Hook's shoulder and tucked it into his pocket. "We haven't had a chance at anything near normal since Emma found us. And neither has she. Maybe when this all settles down and we all get a chance to really just...I don't know...interact - " He broke off, unsure of how to go on.

"Don't make rash promises, mate," Hook said with a cocky grin. "I'm the one that's been drinking, remember?"

David let out a chuckle. "I'm just saying - for whatever it's worth - I do believe in second chances. We've all done things we're not proud of."

Hook looked taken aback. "You have? What?"

David opened his mouth, looked flustered, and then closed it again. "Okay, nothing comes immediately to mind, but I'm sure I did sometime. The point is, you're not that same man. I can see that. And Emma can see it, too. If it's going to happen Hook, it'll happen when it's time."

"So you're saying that you think Emma sees me for the man I am?" He tried to make it sound nonchalant, but his eyes showed how invested he was in David's answer.

"I do. She trusts you." David gave a shrug. "And with Emma, that's half the battle."

They both turned at the sound of the door opening, and Snow and Emma walked in, shaking off their wet coats.

"It's raining like a bitch out there," Emma complained.

Snow stepped forward to kiss her husband. "What's this? Boy's night in?"

"Just talking strategy," David said, throwing a glance at Hook. "I didn't make any dinner - I thought we were going to Granny's."

Snow made a face. "I'm starving. It's okay, I can whip something up."

"I'll do it," David offered. "I just thought for sure you wanted pie."

Snow's eyes actually rolled back in her head. "Pie." She sighed. "Oh, David. Now it's all I can think about."

Emma smirked. "I can run out and bring some back," She said, reaching for her car keys.

"Oh, no," Snow disagreed. "Henry will be home soon."

"In an hour," Emma countered. "You don't want to go back out in the rain again."

"I do for pie. And if I wait for you to go out, and then come back, I have to wait longer for it," Snow pointed out.

"Don't stand between a pregnant woman and her pie," David warned.

Emma held her hands up. "Backing off. You go get your pie."

David held the door open as Snow went through, and his eyes met Hook's, then slid to Emma's. "We'll be gone a little while. Why don't I call Regina and tell her we'll pick Henry up on the way back? That way she doesn't have to go out in this."

"Sure," Emma said. "I'm in for the night."

"Okay then," David said. "See you in a little while." He glanced again at Hook, who gave him a measured look as he shut the door.

"You sticking around?" Emma asked, her voice muffled, since David was listening from the other side of the door.

"Would you like me to?" Came Hook's voice, barely heard through the wood.

Snow and David looked at each other, each of them leaning slightly as they strained to hear her response. A few long moments later, and they realized that the door wasn't opening, they were still staring at each other, and there was pie waiting elsewhere.

David gave a shrug.

Snow gave him back a small grin and a shrug of her own. Then she threaded her hand through her husband's arm, and led him away from the door.


	4. Princess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Set after the previous chapter**

"You sticking around?" Emma asked, reaching for a wine glass.

"Would you like me to?" he asked.

Emma stared at him for a long, charged minute. Finally, she gave a shrug, grabbed a bottle of wine off the counter and walked into the living room. He followed, leaning against the door jamb.

"I suppose I'll take that as a 'maybe.'"

"You can stay if you'd like," she said. "I'd offer you wine, but it's not really your kind of drink." She gestured toward the sideboy. "The whiskey is over there. We're fresh out of rum. Sorry."

"Whiskey will do." He walked over to the sideboy and poured himself a generous portion, bringing the bottle with him. He sat in the chair opposite the couch, and put his booted feet up on the coffee table.

"Don't let Mary Margaret see you do that," Emma warned him. "She'll put an arrow in your ass."

He gave a chuckle, taking his feet off the table. "Far be it from me to provoke a pregnant woman. I've faced many terrible and frightening creatures in my life, but they all pale in comparison to an angry mother-to-be."

"Especially right now - she's got a huge 'nesting' thing going on. She's been cleaning and organizing like crazy. Kinda makes me glad I missed all that."

An image came unbidden into Hook's mind of Emma in one of those ridiculous bowed blouses that Mary Margaret wore, her belly prominent and her skin glowing as she wiped down a countertop or dusted a table. He cracked a half-smile at the unlikely image of Emma shrouded in domesticity. It was as unlikely as it would be for him to be there on the couch, moving his feet so that she could clean around him.

But damn him if he didn't suddenly yearn for just that. Peace, in his little corner of wherever, with Emma at his side, maybe even carrying his child.

He took a drink of whiskey and tried to get a grip on his unruly thoughts.

"How are Henry and Regina getting along?" He asked.

"Good. Really good," Emma replied. "I know it's got to be hard on Regina, though. I can't even imagine - having someone you love so much right in front of you and they have no idea who you are. That's got to be torture."

"Indeed." He gave her a measured look that for some reason made her shift her gaze away.

"He's got a good head on his shoulders." Hook continued. "He took to sailing like it was second-nature for him."

Emma smiled. "He's always up for an adventure."

Hook saluted her with his drink. "Like his mother."

"Nope. Dead wrong. I have a definite aversion to adventure. I just want a nice, calm life." She looked around. "And I'm never going to get that here, that's for sure."

"I disagree. You're as adventurous a spirit as I've ever encountered - when you embrace that part of you, anyway. You were born for more than a mundane life, Emma. Don't short yourself out of it."

Emma shook her head. "I'm not some fairytale princess, Hook."

He placed his drink down on the coffee table. "I'll have to dispute that, love. Yes, you are. And it's about time you started taking the job seriously."

She gave him an eyebrow and a smirk. "So...what? I should put on my tall hat with the veil and a ballgown and wait for my prince to show up? My life doesn't work that way."

"It's certainly better than hiding in a tall building in a big city and hoping your next boyfriend isn't a flying monkey." He reached for his drink again as she gave him a dirty look.

"You're looking at this all wrong, love. You _are_ a princess. More than that, you are meant to be a savior. You're seeing all that as endless rounds of fluffy dresses and balls in your honor and princes on white horses who'll come courting. Being the ruler of a kingdom is so much more than that. Just ask your parents."

"I'm not going to be ruling any kingdom." She disagreed.

"If you were home, truly home, you would be someday. And that's a tremendous responsibility, fit only for those who have the compassion and the smarts and the guts to do it. You've more of all of those than anyone I've ever met, save your parents." He took a long drink of whiskey. "Don't tell your father I said that, by the way."

Emma curled her legs up under her on the couch, swirling her wine in her glass for a moment. "You really think I could rule a kingdom?"

"I think you could do anything you've set your mind to. You're a force of nature, love. I've never met your like in all my life."

Emma suddenly felt entirely too warm, and she had a good idea it wasn't just the wine. She looked up at Hook over the rim of her glass.

"So you've got me ruling a kingdom. When does the Prince ride up on his stallion?"

Hook gave her a devilish smile.

"He took the subway, instead. It was faster."


	5. Granny's

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Set after 3:20 - "Kansas"**

Emma tiptoed out of the hospital room as silently as she could. Mary Margaret had just gotten the baby down and the last thing she wanted to do was wake him up, especially when Mom was drifting off and Dad was sound asleep in a chair at her bedside. Henry had taken off for dinner at Regina's, so that left Emma on her own for dinner.

And after a day like they'd just had, she could use a big drink along with it.

She stepped out of the hospital and into the parking lot, letting out a sigh when she saw who was leaning on her car.

"Whatever it is, I'm not in the mood, Hook."

She reached in her jacket for her keys, but he stepped around the car and in front of the driver's side door, stopping her from getting in.

"If you don't mind," she said as patiently as she could, "I'd really like to get some dinner. I haven't eaten all damn day."

"Well, why didn't you say so?" he replied "I'd love some dinner." He gave her a jaunty smile that didn't quite reach his eyes for some reason. Emma paused a moment, weighing her keys in her hand.

"Get in."

He raised a brow but did as she asked, and a few minutes later, they were sliding into a booth at Granny's and ordering burgers, fries and two very large beers.

Hook raised his mug to her as soon as Granny set them down. "Cheers, Swan," he said. "Here's to what is hopefully the first of many peaceful evenings - for a change."

She clanked her mug against his. "Ain't that the truth."

"Where's Henry?" He asked, reaching for the ketchup.

"I'm afraid you've been replaced," Emma said with a smirk. "Robin Hood is all kinds of exciting. You're just the pirate that he used to hang with now."

Hook played with the pile of fries on his plate. "Oh, I expect he'll come around. I'm not that easy to forget."

The look on her face said clearly that she wasn't touching that one. She dunked a fry in the ketchup on her plate, swirling it around.

"So now what?" she asked.

"Now? I'm finishing my dinner," he answered, taking a bite of his burger.

She gave him an eyeroll. "You know what I mean. Are you staying around here? Heading back? Sailing off into the sunset?"

"Not sure as to the agenda yet," he replied, not meeting her eyes. "And in order to sail, one needs to have a ship. Sadly, I'm fresh out."

"And exactly where is the Jolly Roger?" She asked. "I've been meaning to ask you that since you got here. You were on it when you got the message to find me, according to your accounting, anyway. And you weren't brought here by the curse. If the Jolly didn't bring you here, then how did you get here?"

"It's a thrilling tale, I assure you, but best saved for another day. I didn't invite myself to dinner to discuss my ship. I want to discuss you."

She pushed back from the table. "Here it comes. I told you, Hook - I'm not in the mood."

"It's just a discussion, Swan. And I'm not here as a man who wants you." He paused looking away for a moment before meeting her eyes again. "I'm here as a friend."

"Okay..." she reached for her beer. "So - enlighten me."

"I know you're remembering your time in New York as a halcyon thing - and I understand that. Regardless of it's fallacies and illusions, it was real as you experienced it. Your memory of it makes it a safer alternative to all of...this." He gestured toward the door. "I get that. But that isn't life, love. Or, I should say, that isn't what makes up _your_ life."

"No, villains and evil queens and witches and people I care about dying around me - that's my life," she pointed out. "At least here, it is. And I can make a choice to walk away from that."

"And what about Henry's choice?"

"I told you before - I'm his mother." She said firmly.

"And so is Regina."

Emma let out a sigh. "I know she is. And it's not like we won't ever come back. We can visit. Maybe Henry can spend part of his summer break here." She turned her beer mug slowly between her palms. "Henry deserves a chance at a normal life. And for that matter, so do I."

"That's just what I'm getting at, love." He leaned in, his voice earnest. "You weren't born for a normal life. Henry wasn't born for a normal life. Not by this world's standards."

"Well, like it or not, Hook, we're living in this world. And I want what's best for him - here." She lowered her voice, realizing that she was getting louder. "He can't be swinging swords or sailing ships or slaying dragons every day."

"And why not? How do you know that isn't his destiny?" Hook argued. "You're content to see him condemned to a life of mundanity. He'll finish school, he'll get a job, he'll get married, he'll have children, he'll grow old and die. Is that all that you want for him? Is it?"

"I want him happy."

"He's happy here, Emma. Here. With you, with Regina, with your family - all of them. He needs all the pieces. And so do you." Hook reached for his beer, taking a drink. "I've had my say. And as a friend, I just want to add this piece of advice. I'm the last person to tell you not to be selfish, Swan. I've spent the course of several lifetimes looking no further than my own needs, but perhaps that's given me insight into it that will be of benefit to you." He gave her a slight smile. "You can't run away from your life, love. It's easy enough to go, to become someone else, perhaps even revel in it. But it leaves a hole that nothing can really fill. Nothing but finding your true home. Your true family. Believe me, Swan. I know."

Emma sat in silence a moment, not really sure how to answer him. Finally, she pointed at his plate.

"You gonna finish those fries?"

He pushed the plate at her. "Go ahead. I've always had a hard time saying no to you, love."

She swirled a fry into the pool of ketchup on her plate. "Killian."

His eyes met hers, and he crooked a brow, waiting.

"Thanks." She took a deep breath. "I'll think about it."

He gave her a lopsided grin. "You could throw in a thought for me, as well, if you'd like."

She rolled her eyes, stuffing a french fry in her mouth before she gave into the urge to tell him that despite her voiced objections, he already rented space in her head, and with every baring of his soul like this, that structure was looking more and more permanent.

 _He needs all the pieces,_ he'd said. _And so do you._

She glanced around at all the people at Granny's, and her thoughts flew to her parents, her new brother, Henry and Regina and Gold. All pieces. Parts of a whole. And that was something she'd never felt throughout the entirety of her life: whole. Maybe she just wasn't feeling it completely because there was still one piece she hadn't put in place.

She looked across the table, and she reached for another fry.


	6. Finally

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Set after the season 3 finale**

"Leave that," Granny said to David, as he cleared the last of the plates from the booths. "Red and I can finish up in the morning."

"I've just got the last of it now," David said, "And we're not leaving this mess behind."

"Leadership in action," Granny smiled. "Just drop them here on the counter and then you two get on home. Our new prince and his mama need their rest."

Snow nodded, yawning widely. "I'm afraid rest will have to wait. He's due for a feeding as soon as we get home."

David took the baby, tucking him carefully in the crook of his arm as he reached down, helping his wife to her feet. "Let's get this guy home before he realizes the party's over. Where's Henry?"

"He went home with Regina," Snow said. "She needed some company."

David looked back over his shoulder at Emma, who was sitting at the counter with Killian. "You coming, Emma?"

Her eyes slid sideways, catching Killian's. He betrayed himself with a smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. "You go on ahead," she said, not taking her eyes off Killian. "I'll see you later."

Snow gave a knowing nod, leaning into her husband and pulling him along before he could say anything. They made it out the door and he turned to her.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"Mmmm-hmmm," Snow replied. "That's our daughter, letting someone in. It's about time, too."

"You never liked him," David pointed out incredulously.

"Did so! I've always liked Hook. I think he's good for her. You're the one who had the problem with him."

"Me?" David shook his head. "No, I just wanted them both to take their time. And they did. I never had a problem."

Snow rolled her eyes. "Come on, let's get home. From the looks of them, we won't be seeing Emma tonight."

David made a pained face. "Please. She's still my daughter. And she did just call me Dad for only the second time in her life."

"Come on, Dad. Your little girl's all grown up and you can't intimidate her boyfriend, anyway."

"Don't I know it," he sighed.

Killian held the door, and Emma stepped through, pulling her coat a little closer in the chilly night air.

"It's bloody cold out here," he complained. "What time is it, anyway?"

"It's almost midnight," Emma said, stifling a yawn. "It's been a long day."

Killian rubbed the back of his neck. "Feels more like...oh, I don't know...thirty years or something."

She smiled. "Very funny." She put her hands at the small of her back, stretching. "I'm just glad to be out of that corset."

He quirked a brow. "I'd have been happy to help you out of that corset, love."

"I know." She rolled her eyes. "You had the whole front of my shirt unlaced in just the time it took to kiss me. Pretty good for a drunken, one-handed man."

He gave her a dark look. "I don't know if I'm more angry that he did that or that I can't remember the doing of it," he grumbled.

She smiled again, then looked down, kicking at a rough piece of concrete with the toe of her boot. Killian reached out, taking her hand. "Shall I walk you home, love?"

Emma looked down at their hands, swinging between them. His palm was warm against hers and she was acutely aware of it. She took a breath, and looked up at him.

"You so eager to get rid of me?"

He went still. "Do you want to stay?"

She tilted her head a little. "I don't _have_ to go."

He held her gaze, and for a moment his fingers tightened on hers. "Are you sure about this, Swan?"

"You're turning into a gentleman _now_?" She raised her brows.

"I'm always a gentleman. What we've got is still new, and if I take you to my room, there'll be no turning back." The heat in his eyes made her heart speed up, but she didn't look away.

"I know."

He pulled her into him, kissing her for a good, long time. "I don't know if I can make it to the room," he said against her lips. "God's truth, I've wanted you so long I'm afraid I'm going to embarrass myself."

She gave a short, explosive laugh. "Then we'd definitely better get inside."

He chuckled with her. "Why didn't you say something while we were still inside? Could have saves us standing out here in the bloody cold."

"I thought it might be better if we left, then went in through the back entrance," she shrugged. "Nobody needs to know our business."

He reached out, twirling a lock of her hair around his finger. "And you think that once I've had you in my bed, no one will be able to tell?"

"What, you're going to tattoo me? I don't plan on advertising."

He gave her a smug look. "Oh, they'll know, Swan. They'll know." He reached down, taking her hand again and pulled her along. They were inside and he was pulling her into the room a moment later, pushing her back against the door to shut it. His mouth came down on hers, hesitantly at first, then with considerably more ardor when she slid her hands up his chest and rubbed herself against him.

She felt his hand slid just inside the bottom of her shirt, across the skin of her belly and she made an impatient sound that nearly drove him mad. She shrugged out of her coat and then reached down, lifting her shirt off and over her head.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Helping you," she said, reaching for the button on her pants. His hand came down over hers.

"Don't," he said huskily. "Let me."

"But - "

"I've been imagining this moment for a long time, Swan. Let me enjoy every second of it." He gave her a crooked grin, then took her hand, leading her over to the bed. He detached his hook and cuff, then slipped off his boots, pushing her down into a sitting position on the bed. He knelt down in front of her, pulling her boots off, then unbuttoning and sliding her pants down her legs.

He stood up slowly.

"Good God, Swan," he said, a little hoarsely. "I knew the view would be good, but I wasn't prepared for this."

She smiled up at him as he put a knee down on the bed beside her, pushing her backwards and then moving in next to her. He reached for the ties on his shirt, but Emma reached out and pushed his hand away.

"My turn," she said, in a low, sexy voice that sent instant heat to his groin. He felt his breathing speed up as her hands pushed up under his shirt, sliding over the slab of muscle, her fingers toying in the soft hair on his chest. He levered himself up and helped her pull the shirt over his head, and then sucked in his breath when he felt her hands on the buttons of his breeches, pulling and tugging and making him want to roll her beneath him and bury himself without preliminaries.

He took a deep breath in as she peeled the breeches slowly down his legs, her eyes moving over him as though she were very hungry and he was sitting on a platter before her. He was going to make a fool of himself if he didn't get control of what she was making him feel, but this was _Emma_. This was Emma, and he could hardly believe it, still.

He pulled her back down, settling her and he moved half on top of her. "Emma," he murmured, kissing her softly, lingeringly as his hand moved along the planes of her body, removing the rest of her undergarments and feeling her touching his shoulders, his back, his chest. She arched up into him and he kissed her again, hard, fighting to keep from ending it all too soon.

His hand moved down to her hip, his thumb slowly stroking the soft area inside her hipbone, sending a slow, burning signal right down between her legs. Emma's breath hitched and she tilted her head up, closing her eyes.

Then...nothing. He wasn't moving, other than that thumb. What was he waiting for?

"Emma" he said again, quietly. "Ask me."

She opened her eyes and realized just what he was saying. "Make love to me, Killian. Please."

"Took you long enough, love" he said, leaning down and softly placing his lips against hers. He seemed unhurried, moving his mouth gently on hers, pulling back to slide his tongue along the seam between her lips. She parted them for him, gasping slightly as he pulled her body in tight against his.

Emma was hyper-aware of every inch of skin he had against her, of the burning heat of him all over her, and the feelings of his fingers as they caressed and teased her opening, making her head toss restlessly on the pillow. She slid her hand up from his chest to tangle into his hair, threading her fingers through the silkiness of it. A low, appreciative growl rose up from Killian's throat as his kisses grew wilder. She was arching into his hand fiercely when suddenly everything focused right there, under his circling thumb. Her eyes widened, and with a startled cry, she came apart, her eyes squeezing shut as her fingers dug into his upper arms and cry broke from her lips.

His eyes were bright as he looked at her, reveling in every nuance of her face, and the beauty of her glorious hair spread across the pillow. He watched her carefully, slowing his hand as she was coming down, gentling his touch until it was the barest of caresses, giving her time to relax and recover. His lips teased hers, and his tongue slid inside to circle and dance with hers. His hand moved beneath her to cup her buttocks and pull her up to receive him. Emma's eyes squeezed closed again at the feel of him sliding against her, rubbing himself in her wetness before he slid in deeply, pulling a long, tortured groan from her chest.

Then he was moving on her, and she welcomed him with everything that she had, pulling him in deeper, wrapping her legs around his surging hips and fitting herself to him perfectly. Her breasts were soft against his chest and he the scalding heat of her turned his blood to fire as buried his face in the crook of her neck, determined to watch her come apart again, while he was buried deep inside her.

And for once, he didn't want to rush headlong toward that pleasure, to take whatever fleeting enjoyment he could from it. He wanted it to go on and on and on. God's truth, he felt like he could never get enough of her. His hand moved up, filling itself with her soft breast, and she gave him a sound of encouragement that caused him to push forward a little harder.

Her low, forceful "yeah" nearly sent him over the edge. His jaw tightened, and he grabbed her hand in his, pulling it up over her head and twining his fingers with hers, and then he reached out, looping one of her legs over his other forearm for better leverage. Then he pounded her, hard, pressing deep and drawing sounds from her that were raw and uncontrolled and all the more beautiful for it until she shattered with a loud cry, her back arching hard. He shuddered violently, pouring himself into her, feeling it burn through him like fire.

He was conscious of her hand, stroking his hair sometime later. He still held her other hand in his, and he kept it, moving off her and to the side while using their hands to pull her over to him. He finally released her fingers, reaching up to touch her face.

"That was..."

She smiled at him slowly.

" _So_ not a one-time thing."


	7. Monster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Set after 4:07 - "The Snow Queen"**

Emma sat on the ridge overlooking Storybrooke, resting her hands on the steering wheel and trying to make sense out of the storm that was raging inside her. She'd almost killed them back there.

She'd almost killed them all.

She knew emotions could trigger magic, but she'd never before seen emotion turn it into a raging inferno, slamming through her with the force of a tidal wave, bursting out of her, uncontrolled and unstoppable. Nothing prepared her for that.

Nothing prepared her for the look in her mother's eyes. The Snow Queen was right.

Her mother was glad she never had to raise her.

"Oh, God," she mumbled, laying her head against the steering wheel. She gave a violent start a moment later when the passenger-side door opened.

"Hello, love," he said, sliding into the seat and shutting the door.

"You weren't supposed to find me." Her voice was clear, despite still being face-down on the steering wheel.

He arced a brow. "The entire town takes five minutes to drive across, and you're in a bright yellow car," he pointed out.

Emma let out a long, slow exhale and slowly raised her head.

"Killian, you have to go. I don't know know if I can control this."

"Yes, you can."

"I don't _know_ that!"

"You can control this, Swan. Now let's get you home - your parents are worried sick about you."

Emma's jaw tightened. "I'll bet." She turned her head and looked out the window. "They're probably more afraid that I _will_ come home."

Killian's eyes grew even more concerned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I hurt him, Killian. And if he hadn't pushed you out of the way, it would have been you."

"Your father always has had a flair for the dramatic," Killian said, "And what you did was an accident."

She turned in her seat to face him. "An accident? An accident? I could have killed you! Or him! And before that, I took out the side of a building!"

"All because you let that witch get under your skin!" Killian replied heatedly. "That's not the Emma Swan I know. Since when have you ever let anyone manipulate you like that, let alone a criminal in your custody?"

"She did _not_ manipulate me!"

"The hell she didn't!" He bit out. "Look at you!"

"Why? Because I'm a freak now?"

He was silent a moment. "I didn't say that," he answered quietly. "Don't put words in my mouth, Emma."

"You mean words like 'monster'? I didn't have to put that one in your mouth. You had that one in mind without any influence from me."

"I mis-spoke, that's all - you know I would never think that of you!"

"You _did_ , Killian," she answered angrily. "You did think that." She felt her palms tingling, and the panel lights on the dashboard began to flicker and spark, despite the fact that the engine was off.

"And you were right," she said in horror, looking down at her glowing hands. "Killian - get out of here!"

"I'm not going anywhere," he said firmly.

"Go! Just go!"

The last word was punctuated with the force of a blow, coming out of nowhere, flinging the doors to the car open and throwing him a dozen feet or more into the dirt outside.

"Killian!" her agonized voice reached him as he rolled up to his knees.

"You can't let her do this to you, Emma!" he said, panting. "Don't let her in your head like this. Where is that fortress you've always locked yourself in? You've always been so careful about who you let in, Swan. Don't crumble now."

She shook her head wildly, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Killian - I can't. I can't - " she twisted the key in the ignition, revving the engine. He pushed up to his feet, running for the car as she slammed the door closed.

"Emma!"

She peeled out and he gave chase until he couldn't run anymore, watching the headlights fade into the night.


	8. Heartless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Set after Rumple takes Killian's heart in 4:09**

Heartless.

He'd been called that before, and on more than one occasion. He'd often felt he'd earned the title. But not today.

No, not today.

He buried his face in his hand, pulling at his hair because he wasn't being entirely honest with himself. The truth was, he'd brought himself to this place, through his own machinations. He'd tried to undermine a man who was an accomplished deceiver, a man who had eluded his every attempt at manipulation for centuries.

He'd gotten cocky, overconfident in himself because finally, finally in his misbegotten life, things were going right for him. He had a home, he had a purpose, he had - if he could be so bold - friends. And most of all, he had Emma, warm in his arms and happy to be there.

"Aaaugh!" He made a sound of pure frustration, kicking the corner of his bedpost. He was well and truly hung now. The Dark One had complete control, and there was nothing he could do as long as the crocodile's scaly hands held his heart.

A heart that belonged to another.

He sat down heavily on the bed, feeling the despair, bitter and cloying, choking the breath from him. To be so completely powerless, unable to stop him from enacting such evil against the woman he loved...Killian's lip curled as he remembered the crocodile's words. He'd dared to dismiss his love for Milah, and for Emma. He, who knew only darkness and lies. If Belle truly knew what a monster she had married, the sickness and the evil that oozed out of him. The crocodile had put on a good show for his son, but once Bae was gone, he'd abandoned the pretense, reverted to his foul ways and twisted means.

He pressed his palm into his eyes, wishing he could bury his fingers in deep, pulling out his brain and keeping The Dark One from using his words or actions against Emma. How could he keep her safe when he was the one she should fear the most now?

There was nothing for it. Emma had to be safe. Emma, and everyone else in this town, and there was only one way to do that. The crocodile had said there was only one way for him to enact his evil spell, and that was with his heart. He needed to find a way to tell someone about the heart, and then he needed to remove himself from the picture, before the crocodile could use him to hurt anyone.

Before he could use him to hurt Emma.

He knew instinctively, that's exactly what the bastard would do. He'd toy with him, torture him, using him to wound Emma in countless ways before he finally sucked her away into that accursed hat. And Emma would never know that his heart was wrapped in scaly claws that longed for her end. She'd feel betrayed. Crushed. Used.

He closed his eyes, feeling nausea overwhelm him. The thought of Emma, torn apart by his words or his actions before facing her end was more than he could bear. Everything inside him rebelled at the thought of hurting the woman who owned his heart.

_Who owned his heart..._

Surely, that should count for something, shouldn't it? He hadn't been in control of his own heart for nearly as long a he'd known her. And Emma was _magic._ If she held his heart - and God knows that she did - then it couldn't be used against her, could it? And she could certainly override any command The Dark One gave, couldn't she?

He felt a glimmer of hope, but the truth was, he just didn't know. The man with all the answers surely wouldn't let on if there were a fallibility in his plan.

And if ever there were a fallibility in the face of evil, it was the existence of love. True and enduring love. Emma was living proof of its power.

The spark of hope inside him grew and he nourished it, drew from it, fanned it with everything he still had left inside him.

He may not have his heart, but neither did the crocodile. Not entirely.

And as long as his heart was where it belonged - with Emma - he would give it all the power he had to give, by loving her.

He would love her deeply and fiercely and with unwavering determination, because this, and only this, could be her salvation.

Because this, and only this, had been his salvation.


	9. Thanksgiving

"What in the world is that?" Killian made a face as the gelatinous blob slid out of the can.

"It's called cranberry sauce," Emma said. "And now we slice it."

"A sauce, by its very nature, cannot be sliced. This looks nothing like sauce."

"It's good. Trust me."

"Henry!" Snow called out. "Can you get those two extra chairs from the attic? This turkey is ready."

"Here, let me help you," David said, clearing the counter so that Snow could set the turkey down. "Is that too heavy for you?"

"I lug a seventeen pound infant around all day, every day," she reminded him. "I think I can handle a twelve pound turkey."

"Where do you want the mashed potatoes?" Regina called out.

"Close to me!" Roland said.

She tapped his nose fondly. "You may have to fight Henry for them."

All heads suddenly turned as baby Neal let out a healthy squall.

"I've got him!" Robin said.

"He's not due for a feeding for a while," David said. "You can put him in his bouncy seat."

"Bouncy seat?" Killian looked confused.

"It's a seat...and it bounces," Snow replied. "Babies like it."

"All right, everyone!" David called out. "Let's get this bird on the table!"

They all took their seats as the last of the bowls and platters made their way to the table. Emma poured a glass of wine for the adults and fresh cider for Henry and Roland, and Snow lit the candles in the centerpiece. David cleared his throat, bringing all eyes to him.

"Emma tells me that this meal is an old tradition here, born out of people who were thankful to have survived harsh circumstances together. I can't think of a more appropriate holiday for all of us." He paused a moment for the laughter and murmured agreements that rang out around the table.

"So on this day of thanksgiving," David went on, "I think we should take some time for each of us to share what we're thankful for. I'll go first." He looked across the table at his wife and then his gaze shifted to Emma and Henry. "Today, I'm thankful for my family."

Baby Neal chose that moment to let out another lusty cry, and David set his wine down, picking up his son. "I'm even thankful for the loud ones!" he laughed. "Snow, it's your turn."

Snow smiled, taking her son from David and settling him on her lap. "I'm just so thankful that we're all together. No matter where. Henry?"

Henry nodded, setting down his cider. "I'm thankful that Grandpa talked you into getting a second pumpkin pie from Granny's," he grinned. "Oh, and family. That, too."

"Good to know we rate behind the pie," Emma smirked.

"I've had that pie," Killian remarked. "The boy has a point."

"Mom, it's your turn," Henry said, turning to Regina. She smiled at him, then picked up her wine glass.

"I'm thankful for second chances," she said. Killian raised his glass, leaning across the table to clink it to hers. "I'll drink to that."

Robin raised his glass as well. "I think we can all probably drink to that."

"Hear, hear!" David agreed. "To second chances!" Everyone drank and everyone laughed again. Regina turned to Robin, smiling.

"Your turn."

"Oh I have much to be thankful for," he said. "Roland and I have found a good life here, with good friends and so much more." His eyes shifted to Regina on those last three words, and there was a long, charged pause as he and Regina only had eyes for each other.

"Roland," David said, clearing his throat a bit. "What are you thankful for?"

"Mashed potatoes!" Roland said, rubbing his tummy and eyeing the bowl sitting in front of him. "Can we eat now?"

Robin reached out, ruffling his hair. "Soon, Roland. Let everyone else take their turn."

Roland turned to look at Killian. "Hurry up!" he begged.

Killian laughed along with the others, then he realized they were all looking at him and expecting an answer. "Well, I'm thankful for my devilish good looks, of course," he said, quirking a brow. Emma elbowed him somewhat less than discreetly and he set his wine glass down. He looked around the table. "I'm thankful for..." his eyes shifted to Emma and suddenly, for the first time in all of his entire existence, words fled him.

He stared at her, then he swallowed hard. He opened his mouth, took a breath, and then closed it, swallowing hard again.

"I'm thankful for..." he began again, but his voice broke. "Bloody hell." He reached for his wineglass and took a fortifying swig. He wished it were rum. And they were all still staring at him. He set the glass back down, and Emma's hand gently closed over his arm, on top of the table. He turned his head to look at her again, and she gave him a smile that warmed so much of him that had been cold for so very, very long.

"You know what I'm thankful for," he said to her, a bit huskily.

"What about you, Emma," David broke in, a little bit too loudly.

Emma gave a start, then pulled her eyes away from Killian's. She looked slowly around the table at her parents, her brother, her son, her friends, and finally, at Killian. She gave a hard swallow of her own, and Killian's eyes crinkled as he turned and reached for her hand, lending her his quiet strength.

"All of it," she said. "I'm thankful for all of it. The good, the bad...it all made us who we are and made us appreciate each other even more."

"Well said, Emma," Snow agreed, raising her glass. "Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!"

"Happy Thanksgiving!" the table answered her, except for Roland.

"Let's eat!"

Laughter rang out again as Robin ladeled an enormous portion of mashed potatoes onto his son's plate, and turkey was sliced, and stuffing was passed. And later, after the table had been cleared and Henry took Roland upstairs to play video games and the other adults gathered around the table for coffee, Killian sat down on the couch and Emma joined him, groaning over her full stomach.

He pulled her into him, settling her back against him as he brought his hand down to rub slow circles on her belly.

"Mmmm.." she sighed. "That feels so good."

"I'd offer to rub the rest of you, but I'm having a hard time keeping my eyes open, love."

"That's the tryptophane," Emma yawned.

"The tryptowhat?"

"Tryptophane. It's a chemical found in turkey. Makes you sleepy," she mumbled.

"It's working," he yawned back.

She settled herself in, snuggling further onto his chest. Killian smiled lazily, stroking her hair off her face and kissing the top of her head.

"Go ahead and take a nap, Swan," he said sleepily. "You're safe enough here. I'm too tired to try anything."

There was a pause and he thought she'd fallen asleep, but then she took a breath and answered him.

"I always feel safe in your arms."

He kissed her head again, wrapping his arms around her more tightly, and in a few moments, they slept.

Some time later, Snow stood over them, motioning David to join her.

"Do we wake them?" she whispered.

"They're out cold," he said, leaning in to look closely at Emma.

"I'll just get a blanket and put it over them," Snow said, heading for the closet in the hallway. She came back and unfolded the quilt, settling it over the both of them before she straightened up, sliding an arm around her husband.

"They look good together, don't you think?" She looked up at David.

David slid an arm around her shoulders. "It pains me to say it, but she looks perfectly content."

"She does, doesn't she?" Snow sighed, putting her head on her husband's shoulder. "Come on, we should get to bed."

She pulled her husband along and Emma shifted, burrowing into Killian a little further. He adjusted, rolling into her a little more and sliding his arm around her back. His eyes didn't open, but his lips found her forehead sleepily before slumber pulled him down again.

And in the dim light, Emma's lips curved as she dreamed of pirates.

And pie.


	10. Survivor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **My expansion of the scene where Emma puts Killian's heart back, S4**

"Killian!" She threw her arms around him, holding him tight, nearly knocking him down the stairs she'd just rushed up so quickly. She drew back, holding his face in her hands. "You okay?"

He nodded, still panting from the exertion, the remembered pain. "I am now," he said.

She looked down at the glowing, pulsing thing in his hand. "He had your heart?" she asked, shaking her head in disbelief. "All this time - he's had your heart."

"Well, part of it, anyway," he cracked a smile, raising his brows.

"I'm going to go and get the car," Snow called out from down below. "Something tells me Belle's going to need a shoulder. I'll give her a ride from the town line."

Emma gave her a nod, but didn't take her eyes off Killian's face. Her hands slid down to his chest, rubbing gently before she leaned in, putting her head on his shoulder.

"I am _so_ relieved," she said, muffled against him.

"So am I," he said. "I thought I had seconds at most."

She shook her head, still leaving it on his shoulder. "No...I thought you were distancing yourself. That you were...I don't know."

He brought his arm around her, holding her tighter against him. "You thought I was losing interest."

"Something like that," she mumbled.

He pulled back, nudging her cheek with his chin until she looked up at him. "Not a chance."

He kissed her forehead, leaving his lips against it and taking in a deep, calming breath. He could feel his heart beating in his hand, the reassuring warmth of it, and of the woman in his arms.

In a lifetime of second chances, he'd never questioned a one of them. He'd always chalked it up to his survival skills, his cleverness, the luck of being a pirate, and a bloody good one, at that. But this time...it was more than luck and he knew it. This time, the second chance meant more than anything he'd ever been handed in his life.

"We should get back," Emma said, but she couldn't pull away. He wasn't letting go. "Killian?" She looked up at him with concern, but he pulled her in tighter, kissing her head, the side of her face, burying his face in her hair and breathing her in.

"Just a minute, love. Give me just a minute."

She slid her arms around him, holding him just as tightly. "Take your time," she said. After a long moment, he finally, reluctantly pushed away.

"Here," he said, extending his hand. The heart pulsed strongly, glowing bright in the darkness of the tower.

She stared at the heart, wide-eyed. "You want me to hold it?"

_You already do,_ he thought. He gave her a smile. "I want to hold your hand."

"Oh," she said. "Okay..." she reached out, closing her fingers around it. "What if I drop it?" she asked, raising her brows in a worried fashion.

"I trust you." _I trust you with my heart._ He never thought he'd say that to anyone, ever again. And here she was, his heart in her hands, and he felt nothing but content. He realized he'd been looking at her entirely too long.

"Come on," she said, twining her fingers with his and pulling the other hand protectively to her own chest. "Let's get you both out of the cold."

They walked the few blocks to Granny's, their hands swinging gently between them.

"Do you think she'll really do it? Send him away?" Emma asked.

"I think she certainly looked angry enough to," he answered. "And if she was strong enough to love a man like him in the first place, she's strong enough to tell him goodbye."

"But will he stay gone?"

"She holds the dagger - the true dagger. He'll have no choice," Killian pointed out. "But I wouldn't be fool enough to count him out just yet."

"Me, either." She sighed, squeezing his hand. "I'm just glad it's over - for now. I'm glad you're back to normal." She glanced down at the heart in her hand. "Well, almost."

He held the door for her, allowing her to precede him into the hallway before stopping in front of his door.

"I guess we just do this and get it over with," she suggested.

He gave her a nod, and she stood, cradling the heart in her hands uncertainly.

"Just be gen - ooh!" he called out as she slammed it back into his chest.

"Sorry," she apologized. "I just thought if I did it quickly, it'd be like ripping off a - "

He cut her off, bringing his mouth down on hers as the feeling, the pure, pulsing feeling returned, saturating him, overflowing until he was sure he'd burst with it. He pushed her back into the wall, kissing her with everything he'd been bottling up inside these last weeks, wanting her to feel every ounce of it, and she gave over, kissing him back and leaning into him. He felt like he could kiss her for an eternity and never grow tired of it, but he needed to remind her.

"I told you, Swan," he murmured. "I'm a survivor."

She smiled, and he kissed her again, long and lingering as his body breathed and moved with hers. She pulled back, but he rested his forehead against hers, just reveling in the feel of her - the feel of everything, all of it.

"When was the last time you slept?" she asked, pushing her fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes, sinking into the gentle pull of her fingers.

"The Dark One has kept me busy on the overnights," he said. "He had a rather long list of menial tasks that he enjoyed giving me to do."

Emma's eyes narrowed, then she forced herself to calm down. She leaned in, kissing his cheek gently.

"Get some rest, Killian. I'll be here when you wake up."

He nodded reluctantly, swaying a little because he truly was dead on his feet - or very nearly had been. She reached behind her, opening the door for him.

"Tuck me in?" he asked, flashing her a slightly exhausted, but devilish grin.

"Next time. I really need to go talk to Regina."

"Goodnight, then."

"Goodnight." She slid her arms around his neck, tilting her face up for his kiss - and he was only too happy to oblige. She pulled back, licking her lips self-consciously before twirling him around and pushing him toward the bed.

"Go," she said.

He made his legs walk forward, then pulled back the covers.

"Killian?'

He glanced back over his shoulder, and she was holding the door, watching him.

"Next time," she said. "I promise."

"I'll hold you to that, love."

The look in her eyes played across his mind as he sank into the bed, and slumber finally claimed him.


	11. Dark Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Set after the S4 finale**

He stared as the spot where the dagger had clattered to the ground, his face a study in stunned disbelief mingled with a sense of overwhelming dread. He stepped forward cautiously, hoping beyond hope that he wouldn't see what he knew he was going to see.

Her name was on the dagger.

He bent forward at the waist, bracing his hand against his knee as the nausea overtook him in a wave. The darkness was gone, the dagger bore her name, and Emma's fate was sealed.

He raised his head and straightened slowly as he heard Snow make a horrible, strangled sound, her hand clapped over her mouth as though she could keep it in. Tears flowed freely down her face, and as he turned to look at Regina, he saw her tears as well.

David put a hand to his wife's shoulder, pulling her in to hold her as Robin moved to Regina's side, and in that moment, Killian felt more alone than he had in decades. More alone than when he'd stood on the shores of accursed island, desperate for a way off. More alone than when he'd watched Milah's body slide into the sea. Or Liam's.

"Someone should pick it up," Regina said quietly. She looked over at Snow who shook her head silently.

"No," she said. "I can't. David?"

He nodded awkwardly. "Yeah," he said, gathering himself. "I'll do it." He looked around at everyone again. "Should I call her?"

"No!" The word tore from Killian's throat. "Sorry," he apologized. "I just...I need a moment."

"We all do," Snow agreed. "Before we call her, we need to decide the best course of action."

"And we need to be prepared for...whoever answers," Regina said, taking in a shaky breath.

"She's still Emma," David said firmly. "Whoever she is now."

"You don't know that," Killian said darkly. "Emma is powerful - much more powerful that Rumplestiltskin was when he acquired the dagger. We can have no idea how this will affect her."

"Killian," Robin said quietly. "We'll figure it out. We'll-"

"What?" He snarled. "We'll give her a bouquet of flowers and hope that melts her dark heart? Lock her away for her own protection - and ours?"

"Hook -" Snow interceded.

"Don't you understand? She'll never be the same again!" He raged. "She'll never be Emma as we knew her, _ever again._ That Emma is gone!"

"So what?" David asked belligerently. "You're just giving up? I can't give up on my daughter. And if you're giving up, you can just leave - you're no good to us."

"I didn't say that," Killian ground out. He raised tortured eyes to all of them. "I just...I can't lose her. Not again. Not this way."

"And we won't lose her again, either," Snow said. She stepped closer to Killian, putting a gentle hand on his arm. "Like Robin said...we'll find away."

"Our family never gives up on each other," David said. "Whoever Emma is now, we still love her. And I'm willing to bet that you do, too."

Killian met his eyes wordlessly, a muscle ticking furiously in his jaw. He couldn't seem to get the words out.

Regina pulled free of Robin's embrace and walked closer to the group. "I heard her tell you that she loves you," she said softly. "Those aren't words that come easily for Emma. Take that as a message."

"Of what? All that I've lost?" Killian snapped.

"No. She gave you the key," Regina said steadily. "I happen to know for a fact that True Love's Kiss can break any curse - including the curse of the Dark One."

Killian stared at her, motionless, and the first spark of hope lit in his eyes. "You know that?"

"True love can break any curse," Snow said, smiling. "And we've got enough love for Emma to go around."

"I'm not saying it'll be easy," Regina cautioned. "You may have to remind her that she has the capability to love. She may have lost her connection to it. But it's still there."

"You just have to believe it, Hook," Snow said, squeezing his arm. "We all do."

"Even Rumplestiltskin was capable of love," David pointed out. "And he'd been the dark one for centuries."

"Yes," Killian said, nodding slowly as he warmed to the idea, letting it unfurl inside him. "She just needs to be reminded."

"And we can all do that," David said. "Together."

Killian took a deep breath in, letting it out, letting his mind sort through it all. He would find a way to reach her. If he could find her across realms, he could surely, surely find her inside of herself. She loved him, dammit.

_She loved him._

The wonder of it flooded through him. He hadn't had a second to really think about it, with all that happened. _She loved him._ She'd looked him right in the eyes and she'd said the words. And he knew - oh, he knew - just how much it cost to say the words. He'd all but said them himself on a few occasions. But she'd been the brave one. She'd been the one to say it.

And now he owed her a response. He owed it to himself, and to her, to save the savior.

"I'll get her back," he promised Snow.

"We'll get her back," David said. "All of us. You're not alone in this, Killian."

Killian's eyes flared slightly at the use of his given name, and Snow took up where David left off.

"Emma loves you," Snow said. "That makes you family. David and I may never have planned on our daughter loving a pirate, but she does. And that means something to us."

"I know you had a brother once," David said. "You remember what it is to have family. We're here for you. And for each other."

Killian blinked hard, actually afraid for a moment that he was going to lose his composure. He cleared his throat once, and again before he could speak.

"Thanks, mate."

David clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't go getting all choked up on me," David said. "Once we save Emma I'm still going to enforce a curfew."

Killian rolled his eyes. "I was only clearing my throat because I need some rum," he grumbled, reaching for his flask. He took a healthy swallow before handing it to David, who took a grateful drink of his own before handing it back.

"Well, I guess we should get this over with," David said, looking from Regina to Snow, then back to Killian again.

"Do it," Killian said.

David squatted down, reaching for the dagger, and Killian closed his eyes for a moment, holding within him the memory of how she looked as she'd said the words.

_I love you Emma,_ he thought. _Come back to me. I love you._

David's fingers wrapped around the dagger as he said aloud:

"Dark One, I summon thee."

There was a clap of thunder, and Killian opened his eyes.

And he loved her so much, he knew he had enough for both of them.


	12. Tested

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Set after S5E03 "Siege Perilous". Emma comes back later in the evening to visit Killian again...**

Killian set the flask down, giving his eyes a tired rub with his hand. It was very late in the evening, and he felt wearier than he'd felt in a lifetime, beaten down and depleted in a way that left him foundering.

She'd asked him if he loved her. And in that moment, that awful, lingering moment, he knew the answer.

If she had been Emma, truly his Emma, she wouldn't have had to ask.

Emma was one of the rare few he'd never misrepresented his feelings to. She knew where his interest, then his allegiance, and later his heart firmly rested. Only the Dark One would question him, and with good cause.

He let out a swear word, and threw the flask as hard as he could into the cabin wall. He'd been hoping to find sleep in the bottom of a bottle, but it wasn't going to happen, not tonight.

"That's quite a temper you have there."

Her voice robbed him of his peace, tenuous though it was. He slowly opened his eyes and looked at her, sitting quietly at the table across from him.

"What do you want?" he asked flatly.

She stood up with a little laugh, leaning back against the table next to him. "Well, I didn't come to talk," she said with a tiny smile. She folded her arms and studied him for a moment.

"You know, I think I've gone about this all wrong."

"How's that?"

"You," she said. "And me. And talking."

He pushed back from the table and got to his feet. "I'm in no mood for riddles. Say what you mean to say and be done with it."

Emma stepped in until she was pressed right up against him. "And what sort of mood are you in?" she asked, in a voice laden with possibility. Killian's brows raised, but he remained unmoving. She brought up one hand, tracing the line of his shirt where it opened at his chest.

"I've been thinking that the way to a man's heart may not be through his stomach. Dinner was a bad idea." She stretched up, kissing his lips lightly. "I think we should skip straight to dessert."

He grabbed her hand, arresting its motion, and deliberately stepped back.

"Don't." His voice was quiet, nearly a whisper.

She couldn't help but smirk. "You're going to tell me that you don't want this now? After the way you've pursued me?" She slid her hand free of his grasp, trailing it up his arm and over his shoulders as she moved around behind him, circling.

"All this time, I've kept you at arm's length, and not because I didn't want you," she cooed. "Oh, I wanted you. I wanted every bit of you." Her fingers moved to his hair, letting the silky strands pull through her fingers. "Some nights, I'd lay there awake for hours thinking about how good we'd feel together. Which is funny, if you think about it. I mean, I never had a problem sleeping with a man on a first date before - but I think what held me back was the fact that I knew you'd be _more_."

She moved around in front of him now, clearly able to see what her words were doing to him. His face was tight, but his eyes were burning, just as his body was burning with the force of what he was feeling.

"And I'm not afraid anymore," she said, sliding her hand along his lapel and leaning in, until he could feel the heat of her and her breath against his lips.

"I want you, Killian. And there's nothing stopping you from having every inch of me."

She put her lips on his, but before she could deepen the kiss, he pushed her away, and his voice bit out like the snap of a lash.

"Get out."

"Killian." She gave him a knowing smile that said she wasn't fooled. She'd felt him against her. He did want her. Damn her, he did.

"Just go. I'm not playing your games." His fist was clenched and he stood there, rigid and furious.

Emma narrowed her eyes. "Such simmering rage," she purred. "Hate to see all that fire go to waste. And there's a lesson to be learned."

She waved her hand, and a moment later, they were reclining on the bed, naked, and in each other's arms. Killian gave a violent start, and tried to pull away, but she stroked his face soothingly.

"Another gift from being the Dark One," she murmured. "I can see everything you want. All of it. And I can make you want it _right now_."

The last two words were delivered on another wave of her hand as he growled and flipped her onto her back, forcing his body down onto hers. His mouth came down to pull and suck at her neck, her lips, her throat and breasts. Emma smiled with satisfaction. She spread for him, welcoming the feel of him hard against her, pressing her down as he pinned one of her wrists over her head, holding it there.

"That's right," she encouraged breathlessly. "Take it. Take what you want. I want you to."

She arched her hips up into him and he yanked her head back, fisting his hand in her hair as he prepared to enter her, enslaved by what she'd unleashed inside him. His breathing became more labored as she began circling her hips to rub herself against him, pressing her breasts up into his chest as she moved.

His eyes were searing hot and he shook with the force of what he was feeling.

"Go on," she goaded, "Go on and take it. You know you want it."

He took in a deep draught of air, and then another, and a moment later he rolled off of her with a groan.

"Don't stop now," Emma chided. "Things were just getting good. I can climb on top if you want." She started to slide a leg over his, but he stopped her, moving further away on the bed and grabbing the blanket to cover himself.

"Stop."

"Killian, you want this."

He rolled to face her, and against his better judgement, his hand came up, as if unable to stop itself from tracing her beloved face.

"I don't want this. I want _you_. _You_ , Emma. You're in there, somewhere, Swan. I know you are."

Emma's eyes widened at the use of his usual nickname, and a moment later, she was gone.

Killian rolled on his back, throwing his arm over his eyes, and he stayed that way for a good, long while until the rum finally took over, and he slept, dreaming of her.


	13. Memoriam

"Will you come with me, love?"

Emma looked up from the logbooks and pushed her hair back from her face. "Huh? Sorry." She gestured at the book and papers in front of her. "Just trying to catch up with everything that went on while we were gone. It looks like it was mostly drunken dwarves and the occasional Merry Men and Pirate Crew squabble."

Killian gave her a reluctant smile. "They do enjoy a good wager, the lot of them. When it doesn't go their way, there may be fisticuffs."

Emma shut the logbook and pushed her chair back. "You were saying?"

"I need to do something. And I'd appreciate your company."

"Are we going far?"

"Just down to the docks," he assured her. "It won't take long."

He held out his hand and she reached for it, letting him pull her to her feet. Her fingers twined around his, and once again, she reveled in the feel of that hand in hers, warm and alive. Their hands swung gently between them as they walked to the car, and once she got inside, their fingers found each other again. She knew he felt the way she did - neither of them wanted to let go.

She pulled up at the docks, and he gently led her up the gangplank and onto his ship.

"Are we going somewhere?" she asked.

"No. Wait here."

She looked puzzled. "Where are you going?"

He forced a smile. "Only up the mainmast."

Emma shrugged. "Sure. I'll be right here."

"One moment, love," he said. "I need to get something." He released her hand and walked brusquely to the upper deck, reaching behind the pedestal that held the wheel and pulling out a single arrow. He jumped back down to the main deck and clamping the arrow between his teeth, he got ahold of the lashings and began to climb.

Emma smiled up at him as he went. For a one-handed man, he could climb faster than anyone could imagine possible. His years on the sea had made him adept and it only took a few moments before he'd reached the top. She shaded her eyes to stare up at him, and watched as he carefully placed the arrow flat against the top of of the mast, where it stayed as if glued there.

He paused a moment, and his lips moved as if he were saying something, but she couldn't hear him from down on the deck. Eventually, he hauled himself back down and landed on his feet next to her.

"There," he said. "It's done."

She reached out, twining her fingers again with his. "Was that one of Robin's arrows?"

"Yes." He tried to smile, but it just wouldn't come. "It's an old seafaring tradition. When you lose someone that mattered to you, you put something of theirs on the highest point of the ship. To let them know that someone will always be looking to the horizon, and wishing for their return."

He pointed up to where he'd placed the arrow."I bought a spell from a witch long ago - anything put to the top mast will stay affixed permanently."

"It's a beautiful tradition," Emma said quietly. "Do you have something of Liam's up there?"

"Aye - the captain's insignia from his uniform. He was fiercely proud to have earned it. There's also a set of dice that belonged to Bae."

"And Milah?"

His startled eyes met hers and she gave his fingers a reassuring squeeze.

"I put her favorite drawing pencil up there," he answered. "She had such talent. She could have made her way in the world on that alone."

"But she chose a life with you." Emma's eyes were soft, understanding.

"Aye."

"I didn't get to know her long, but she seemed like a strong woman," Emma said. "And she knew you were worth it."

Killian shook his head. "You give me too much credit, Swan. I ended up getting her killed. And Liam - I should have argued with him more. Put my foot down and insisted we leave Neverland before we did. And now Robin is dead. Because of me."

"Is that what this is about?" Emma's face showed her concern. "Killian - all those people made up their own minds. They were adults and they made their own choices. You can't own that."

He didn't answer her, and she stepped in, touching his face. "Robin went to the Underworld of his own free will. He knew you'd have done the same for him."

"I would," Killian affirmed. "Without hesitation. He was a good man who deserved a far better fate than he was dealt."

Emma laid her head against his shoulder and he pulled her in, setting his chin against her forehead. They held each other in silence for a moment.

"I don't know why you keep surviving," Emma said. "I just know I'm glad you do."

"Isn't it obvious?" He pulled back to look at her, and tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. "No one can love you as I do. Someone, somewhere must know that. I just wish I felt as though I'd done something to deserve you. To deserve all the sacrifices that have happened to put me here."

"You've earned your place in Storybrooke with the other heroes," she said firmly. "And you earned your place with me a long, long time ago. I just wish I'd admitted it sooner."

"You are a stubborn bit of baggage," he agreed, kissing her lightly. A sudden gust of breeze lifted her hair and set the sails rippling.

Emma turned her head to look out to sea.

"Always looking to the horizon..." she murmured. "I like that. It means you're always looking forward."

"Aye," he said, pulling her into his side as he looked out with her. She rested her head on his shoulder, and they stood in silence, thinking of love, and loss, and all that lies between.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **  
> _Set after S5 E21: "Last Rites"_  
>  **


End file.
